The Plébiscite; or, A Miller's Story of the War: By One of the 7,500,000 Who Voted "Yes"Erckmann-Chatrian
Philosophy
The Plébiscite; or, A Miller's Story of the War: By One of the 7,500,000 Who Voted "Yes"
Erckmann-Chatrian
France -- History -- Third Republic, 1870-1940 -- Fiction
"Just listen to me, Christian," said he. "In the first place, I am
much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken. All that you tell
me I knew beforehand; but I am not sorry to know it for certain. Yet I
could wish that the sous-prefet had had my letter. As it is, since I
am refused a license to sell a few glasses of wine retail, I will sell
wine wholesale. I have already a stock of white wine, and no later
than to-morrow I am off to Nancy. I buy a light cart and a good horse;
thence I drive to Thiancourt, where I lay in a stock of red wine.
After that I rove right and left all over the country, and I sell my
wine by the cask or the quarter-cask, according to the solvency of my
customers: instead of having one public-house, I will have twenty. I
must keep moving. With an inn, Marie Anne would still have been
obliged to cook; she has quite enough to do without that."
"Oh! yes," she said; "for thirty years I have been cooking dishes of
sauerkraut and sausage at Krantheimer's, at Montmartre, and at Auber's,
in the cloister St. Benoit."
"Exactly so," said George; "and now you shall cook no longer; but you
shall look after the crops, the stacking of the hay, the storage of
fruit and potatoes. We shall get in our dividends, and I will trot
round the country with my little pony from village to village.
Monsieur le Sous-prefet shall know that George Weber can live without
him."
Hearing this, I learned that they had money in the funds, besides all
the rest; and I reflected that my cousin was quite right to laugh at
all the sous-prefets in the world.
He came with me to the door, shaking hands with me; and I said to
myself that it was abominable to have refused a publican's license to
respectable persons, when they gave it to such men as Nicolas Reiter
and Jean Kreps, whom their own wives called their best customers
because they dropped under the table every evening and had to be
carried to bed.
On the other hand, I saw that it was better for me; for if my cousin
had been found infringing the law, I should have had to take
depositions, and there would have been a quarrel with Cousin George.
So that all was for the best; the wholesale business being only the
exciseman's affair.
What George had said, he did next day. At six o'clock he was already
at the station, and in five or six days he had returned from Nancy upon
his own char-a-banc, drawn by a strong horse, five or six years old, in
its prime. The char-a-banc was a new one; a tilt could be put up in
wet weather, which could be raised or lowered when necessary to deliver
the wine or receive back the empty casks.
The wine from Thiancourt followed. George stored it immediately, after
having paid the bill and settled with the carter. I was standing by.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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